Unrequited
by artapdrkstr
Summary: "She was a legend. People feared and admired her. Her word mattered. She had an iron reign on fashion, she had surpassed… everyone." Oneshot.


**A/N: I wrote this story a few years ago when I was very much into TDWP. You can also find it on my LJ, same penname. This was a one shot… sort of.**

**I do not own The Devil Wears Prada or any character pertaining to it.**

**Enjoy.**

She sat in the booth, in some third rate restaurant, waiting for Andrea. By the gods that girl was always on her mind, and just the same, thoughts of Andrea were always followed by guilt and self-loathing. She loved her; she wanted Andrea like she never wanted anything more in her life. She was willing to give up everything: money, fame, power for her. However, that was never fate's plan was it?

She was a legend. People feared and admired her. Her word mattered. She had an iron reign on fashion, she had surpassed…everyone... 

Yet here she was with the understanding that left the most bittersweet taste in her soul that she could ever have. Whoever said knowledge was power was the most ignorant bastard life could have created; had they still existed she most definitely would've had them dealt with. She felt powerless, not just a loss of control, but also a loss of freedom in knowing she could not get her heart's desire. Andrea.

She had watched her many nights, day after day. Feelings developed with passing time, all the while her soul's laceration grew leaving way for the coldness that eventually settled where a heart was supposed to be. How many nights had she spent drinking, purging herself of loneliness if only for the time being? Willing a numbness to enter her, anything to make her stop feeling a loss of something she never really had. She would watch as she laughed and loved someone that was not her.

Anger filled her then, no not anger, rage. She was god; there should be no reason for these disgusting feelings. How dare her heart betray her. She slipped an all to familiar mask on and looked around at the excuse for a restaurant, it was Andrea's favorite; she had yet to see the appeal. It was a good thing no one recognized her, then again why would they? Insignificant creatures looked like they had crawled out of a hole. Hardened exterior only became harder.

Her father had been a kind man. Her mother had been known as cold but caring at the end nonetheless. She supposed that's where she attained the need for walls. There was just one problem, before she had managed to get the walls up Andrea had made her way in, trapping her, only her. No one could get in, and she couldn't get her out. She had exceeded cold. Her heart and soul were frigid, void, purged of feeling; it made it easier to cope with reality.

_And, pray tell, what reality is that?_

The fact that we are alone.

You pushed her away.

I had to.

No you didn't.

I DID! What is the alternative. Enlighten me!

You could tell her.

So I can have her leave me? Look at me in pity. So she will never talk to me. So she will look at me in disgust and ask how I can even fathom the idea? I think not.

She would never leave you.

Of course she will.

You're right she will. We are all alone so why are we in existence then. Why do you keep on living?

I have agendas that need to be met.

You and I both know that you've surpassed any goals you ever had.

You're right. What more do I have to look toward to.

Nothing.

It will never happen, I know that.

Never.

Then why am I here. Is that what you're getting at?

Yes there is no need to be here. We're not even living, we're passing through.

_ You're right, let's just leave. We can throw ourselves off a roof. No wait, let's take a razor to my wrist. Better yet, let's take a knife to my throat and watch as red life drains out of us and end our affair with misery. Is that what you want?_

Laughter.

Why her?

You know why.

I do not. She's nothing.

Denial. She was there for you. She cared for you. She understood you like no one has or ever will.

She had to.

Don't fool yourself, she didn't have to care.

I beg to differ.

...

Why her of all people? Why her?

Because she cares.

I refuse to believe that. Why me? Why am I the one that has to feel these things?

Silence__

ANSWER! Why me?

Silence__

FUCKING ANSWER ME, GODDAMN IT!

Silence__

...answer me...  


The waitress came. Stupid insignificant child masticating gum like a horse. She wanted nothing more than to hit her. Watch as blood would run freely from her mouth. Stain everything. Everything.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No." The stupid child still stood there making that retched noise. "That's all."

She heard the girl mutter 'bitch' as she left.

_You have no idea._

Through the front she saw Andrea pull up across the street.

How was it possible to feel soulless and drained of life yet still feel that disgusting pinch of hope?

A horn blared. She saw Andrea apologizing profusely to the driver as she ran across the street.

_Damn It, Andrea, be careful!_ She was on her feet before she had time to control herself. She sat back down.

Andrea made her way through the front door, shrugging off her coat.

Desire flared in every atom of her being threatening to consume her whole. Then it was doused with a feeling of guilt and self hate. Having the sensation of regurgitating food that she had yet to ingest.

Andrea made her way to were she was seated and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, Carol"

Yes. Caroline Priestly was in love… with none other than Andrea Sachs, the wife of the late and great Miranda Priestly.

She smiled and nodded as their waiter came.

_O fucking joy._


End file.
